The Eternal Darkness
by MoodyCrab3
Summary: Romance/Horror/Adventure all in equal proportions. AU... Truth is,Demons exist.Ichigo finds his class mate Inoue Orihime being attacked by one of them and rushes in to her rescue. That is before he realizes, she is also one...................
1. Chapter 1

_**How it all began**_

1.

_Two thousand years ago, she ruled the lands._

_Ayame Yagami. _

_As descent and Head of the Yagami clan she was beyond formidable. She was a ruthless leader, a fierce warrior and most important of all a stunningly beautiful demon. _

_Her hair was soft like satin. Her skin was pale like snow. Her lips were redder than the brightest wine. And her eyes were a deep, deep shade of black. _

_She was also beautiful even in battle, covered in blood and scars, as she fought for her dominance in the clan, Kurosaki noted._

_She walked with a steadiness of purpose as she raised her scythe high above her head, and brought it down on the neck of the slave kneeled before her, the price for his disloyalty. His head rolled down the marble floor like dice. _

_Koga looked alarmed before he snarled his teeth and crouched slightly, ready to attack. As she approached him, he panicked. In a moment of fear and desperation, he pounced on top of her, barring his teeth and scratching her pale skin with his needle like nails, scarring her. She screamed in pain. Her scythe fell off her hand. She was unarmed. _

_She pushed him off and scrambled to her feet, gathering herself, preparing for her next move, calculating the next attack. Her cat like eyes gleamed in the darkness. They narrowed in fury as they locked on to their prey._

_She bent down and picked up her scythe, swirling it around her, never removing her eyes off Koga. The wind swirled in equal harmony. She looked eerily God-like. _

_She walked towards him, taking careful, painfully heavy and slow steps. Koga felt death stalk him in the shadows. She slashed him with the scythe but he dodged skillfully. She tried again and he dodged again and ran, broadening the distance between them. But he didn't flee; instead, when he had run far enough, he stopped and turned to face her, his features breaking into a mirthless grin as he ran towards her. _

_He was in-front of her one moment, baring his teeth, claws unsheathed, read to kill. She raised the scythe. But the next moment, he had vanished and materialized behind her. Ayame smirked knowingly. With the speed of the lightning, she turned around and brought her scythe down mercilessly. Koga's attack failed. Blood ticked down his mouth and nose as his body split into two near the middle. They lay at her feet. _

_Koga twitched in pain. He was losing consciousness. His vision was blurring. Death was approaching. He felt a soft silky hand slither around his neck and pull him up. It was Ayame. She looked so blindingly beautiful, Koga noted. Her eyes were sparkling with pure malice. She eyed him, one last time, before she snarled and sunk her teeth into his neck. She sucked his blood out. The warm liquid filled her throat and replenished her. The pain seared through Koga's body. His hollow screams echoed throughout the dome of the palace. When she had her fill, she cast his body aside and eyed Kurosaki, her lips plump and red, blood dripping down the round sensual curves of her mouth._

_Kurosaki marveled at her strength. She was indeed as formidable as he had anticipated. _

_She walked towards him, Kurosaki, her commander in general, her body caked with dried blood and battle scars. But head held high in pride, arrogance even. _

"_Have my slaves clean the blood, and dispose the body. But save the traitors head." _

_She commanded as she left the room. _

_2._

_Hikaru was dressed in an orange Yukata with pale green bamboo prints spread across it. Her copper hair was gently flowing in the wind. _

_She heard the sound of horse hoofs approach. Her head jerked around to catch the sight of familiar orange hair lashing in the wind. Amber eyes fell on grey ones softened and smiled peacefully. Genji dismounted his horse and walked towards his beloved. _

"_Hikaru" _

_He throated huskily before pulling her into a warm embrace. They stayed in each other's arm a while before breaking apart. _

_Together they watched the sunset._

_Slowly, Genji turned around to face his love. Her russet hair whipped in the wind gracefully. Her long lashes brushed against her soft pink cheeks as she blinked. She turned around and her grey eyes locked onto his. In a moment of peace, in a moment of silence, they shared a kiss. _

_Unaware, at a healthy distance, Ayame watched them. _

_3._

_Genji was summoned to Ayame's chamber. He wearily wondered why. As he entered her private chamber, he watched the Princess walk out of her bath tub, nude. He noticed her bountiful chest and narrow waist. He admired how amazingly soft her skin appeared to be. As he stared, Ayame remained unfazed. _

_She walked, with elegance and indifference. As she stood next to him, her body rubbed delicately against his._

"_Do you know why I have summoned you here, Genji?" She whispered into his ears, her cherry-red lips brushing against his lobes. Genji remained unperturbed. Her long slender fingers trailed across his shoulders. He couldn't help but notice her womanly curves. She was undisputedly, sinfully seductive, he concluded. _

"_No," he croaked back. _

_She turned around and walked away from him her hips swaying gently as she glided across the room. _

"_I am the Princess of this land. And like every princess, I need a prince." _

_Genji removed his eyes from her hips and gazed into her long shiny hair. _

"_I don't like to beat around the bush, so I'll be direct. Marry me, be my prince, rule the land by my side." _

_She simply ordered. She turned around to face him and her endowments jiggled as she did._

"_My lady, but" Genji began, meaning to protest. But Ayame sensed his hesitation. She materialized next to him. Her body was dangerously close now. As her tout nipples grazed his solid chest, she put her leg between his and rubbed against him warmly, turning him on. Her hands rested on his chest and she urged him touch her…. Genji pulled her hands away. _

_He pushed her aside and bowed in apology. _

"_I am sorry, my lady. But I am promised to another." _

_Ayame stared at him in disbelief. He dared to reject her. In her fury, she slapped him. _

"_You will pay for your insolence, Kurosaki Genji" she promised as she threw a robe around her naked body and walked out her chamber._

_4._

"_Hikaru," Genji shouted her name, as he rushed into Hikaru's hut, pleading to the heavens to spare her life. Ayame was Death itself. She was a fearsome enemy and not someone to take rejection lightly. If she knew Hikaru was the reason Genji rejected her…. _

_Suddenly, he was cold. His skin froze like ice as the warmth drained out of his body._

_Ayame was standing in the middle of a pool of blood, her long hair flowing in the wind. The stench of blood filled the hut. She sensed his presence and slowly turned around. At her feet was a limp body, pale and seemingly lifeless. The body was clothed in an orange Yukata with pale green bamboos. Ayame laughed a cold mirthless laughter. Her shrill voice echoed across the mountains. Her black, death-like eyes gleamed in victory. In her left hand she carried a bloody scythe, while in her right hand; she clutched a bunch of russet hair, with its root still clinging to the head of Hikaru Inoue. Her glassy eyes stared back at his terror-struck ones. Blood dripped from her served neck, drip, drip, drip. Each drop pierced Genji in the chest like a dagger. _

_He screamed. His scream mingled with Ayame's laughs. _

_But they abruptly stopped when Genji's amber eyes turned topaz. _

_5._

_She dodged, jumping out of the way. Fear reflected in her eyes for the first time. _

"_Yeehaaw,"_

_He yelled as he brought down his sword on where Ayame had been standing only a fraction of a second ago. The land where the sword hit the ground caved in forming a crater. Ayame shirked. He jumped out of the gaping hole and moved towards her. He raised his sword Zangetsu and swung it. It clashed against Ayame's Scythe. The force of the collision caused fire sparks to frizzle out. _

_He was not the Genji Ayame knew. He had pale skin and hair like an albino. His eyes were a golden shade of yellow, like topaz. And he was infinitely more powerful. She could not comprehend what was happening. _

"_I should thank you witch, for releasing me from the confines of his mind. But I cannot forgive for what you have done to his little Princess, for you see we both loved her dearly." _

_Ayame laughed. _

"_She is gone and you cannot bring her back."_

_The new-comer frowned. _

"_Soon you will be gone too…" _

_He spat as he caught the ribbon wound around the hilt of his sword and spun Zangetsu around. The wind began to swirl around him. _

"_Foolish demon, you cannot kill me. For, I am death" _

_She yelled back as she let her scythe hit Zangetsu. But the force of the spinning sword sent her scythe flying. She watched in terror as her weapon landed far from her reach. The albino smirked victoriously. He continued to spin Zangetsu around as he brought it down on her. Her scream was cut short as her body was ripped to shards. Blood and gore smeared his pale skin red. _

6.

_Genji buried Ayame's Scythe at the very top of Mount Fuji._

_He carried Hikaru in his arms gently and buried her along with Zangetsu._

_He left the village._

_No one saw him again. Some say his spirit still guards the entrance of the cave in Mount Fuji where Ayame's Scythe lay buried, so she may never be resurrected. Some say he died heart-broken. While some say, his spirit joined Hikaru in heaven. _

_Whatever became of his end, we know that this is how the story began. _

_Present day Japan: _

Ichigo Kurosaki sat in his chair, staring out the window, the wind sweeping his orange hair. His amber eyes drooped as sleep annexed him.

"_Hikaru" He whispered into her ears. She blushed profusely and turned towards him, eyes downcast in shyness. _

"_Hikaru" he croaked huskily. His lips caressed hers. They brought their heads together. As their foreheads united, their noses rubbed and lips brushed slightly, oh ever so slightly against each other. _

_They kissed passionately. _

"_Kurosaki" she moaned against his lips. _

"Kurosaki, KUROSAKI"

She yelled. The voice was somehow different. A soft object smacked his head. Ichigo whipped his head straight and stared into the eyes of Ochi-Sensei.

"Kurosaki, what do you think you are doing, sleeping in class"

He groaned. The dream had been good. He straightened and picked his pencil, flipped through the pages of his tattered note, pretending to read. Ochi-Sensei eyed him gingerly. She straightened her glasses before walking to her desk.

"As I was saying," she began.

"We have a new student in class and her name is Inoue Orihime."

Her russet hair flowed softly in the wind. The breeze lifted her skirt and flayed it around her gently. Her grey eyes sparkled as it caught the sun. Her humming bird wing-like lashes brushed softly against her cheeks as she blinked. Ichigo watched her, flabbergasted.

The girl looked around and her eyes instantly locked on his chocolate brown ones. Her cheeks colored under his intense gaze.

"Hikaru," he whispered to the wind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer : I do not own bleach.**

**forgive me if there are mistakes. i worked late into the night on this and then just got fed up and posted it without checking for errors. **

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

**The Fated Encounter: **

"Ohyo, my name is Inoue Orihime. And I just transferred here from Tokyo. You all seem like such nice people. I hope I can be friends with all of you."

She finished with a beautiful smile gracing her face. She looked every bit like the girl of his dreams. Her long brownish orange hair, her pale porcelain skin, her voluptuous body, they were all remarkably similar. Ichigo noticed the other boys ogling at her. Hell, he could have sworn Keigo was salivating. For some reason, it made his stomach curl in disapproval.

"Where do I sit, Ochi-sensei?" she asked.

Ochi-sensei looked around for a vacant place. The only place left abandoned without a student was the one next to Ichigo.

"You can sit there Miss Inoue, right next to Kurosaki." The other boys murmured a 'darn' or a 'lucky bastard' under their breadth.

She pointed her index finger at Ichigo and Orihime's eyes followed. They landed on the empty chair and quickly darted to meet Ichigo's amber eyes. Her cheeks flushed considerably. The boy with the bright orange hair was staring at her with such intensity behind his gaze that she couldn't help but flush and appear bashful. He made her warm and uneasy at the same time. Ichigo simply stared still dumbstruck at meeting the girl of his dreams, literally.

Orihime was about to take her seat next to Ichigo when the class room door slammed open. Ochi-Sensei and the students whipped their heads to the entrance and gaped in surprise. A petit young lady with short black hair in a pretty blue frock stepped in. A strand of hair fell between her large violet eyes. Once inside, she did not show the slightest trace of hesitation. She simply rushed in and caught Orihime's upper hand.

"Orihime, you forgot your Bento." She whispered to the startled girl as she handed to her a neatly wrapped lunch box. Ochi-sensei and the other students watched flabbergasted. Orihime blushed again in embarrassment.

"Thank you, Rukia-Chan" she whispered back.

The elfin form of the black haired lady scurried out of the class room just as quickly as it had appeared.

Orihime giggled in awkwardness and explained to the class, "She is my aunt. I forgot my lunch you see,"

she explained waving the Bento in front of the whole class. Orihime lowered her bag from her shoulders and dropped it to the ground. She slowly slid into the seat next to Ichigo, carefully avoiding eye contact with him. Next to her, Ichigo was rigid equally determined not to establish eye contact with her. Ochi-Sensei began teaching. The class was quiet. Ichigo, through the corner of his eyes noticed the new-comer. Her right arm was supporting her chin as she stared out the window, blissfully ignoring class. Ichigo was at a loss for words. To see someone he had dreamt about materialize in front of him was beyond strange. He also felt peculiarly attracted to the girl.

Orihime watched Ichigo from the corner of her eyes. His orange hair made him look like his head was on fire. It made her giggle. She watched the ever-present scowl on his face with amusement. Despite his hostile appearances, he looked kind, she mused. Her chain of thoughts was disrupted when Ichigo caught her looking at him. She blushed wildly and averted her eyes back to the window. Ichigo's scowl deepened.

The classes went on uneventfully. Both the orange headed teens rarely listened. Their thoughts were too preoccupied on their neighbor, namely each other.

The bell rang, signaling end of class. It was lunch. Orihime took out her Bento and began to unwrap it. Ichigo himself was ready to have lunch with his friends. He wondered if the girl will be having her lunch alone and felt pity for her. But then he noticed Tatsuki his childhood friend and Dojo-mate walk up to the russet haired girl and strike a conversation. The new-comer though seemingly shy was quiet talkative he observed as she flayed her arms far and wide in an animated conversation. He watched on as Chizuru, the resident lesbian snuck up on her from behind and groped her breasts making her squeak and drop her lunch. Ichigo's fist clenched instinctively. But Tatsuki hit the pink haired bespectacled girl square on the face and send her flying. Orihime watched in concern as the pervert flew right out the window and hit the ground.

By now, Keigo and Mizuiro had joined Ichigo. Chad walked up to them. They were waiting for Tatsuki to join them. Ever since Chad and Tatsuki had started dating, Tatsuki always joined Ichigo and gang for lunch.

Tatsuki asked Orihime, "Hey Orihime, if you don't mind, would you like to eat lunch with us?"

Orihime's face lit up in excitement.

"With pleasure Arisawa-Chan" she squealed in reply. She never expected to make friends in such short notice in her new school. Tatsuki walked up to Ichigo and the others. Orihime followed. But when she saw that her lunch group consisted of Ichigo she hesitated.

"What are you waiting for? Hurry up" Tatsuki yelled after her. Orihime gulped.

"Hey don't worry. These guys are great" she assured Orihime reading her uncertainty. "Well, except maybe Keigo. Come on!" she grabbed Orihime and dragged her to where the gang was.

Ichigo frowned at the new addition. "You are bringing her with us?" he enquired.

"You got a problem with that?" Tatsuki asked, her eyebrows rose, daring him to reply in the affirmative.

Ichigo simply shrugged and walked on ahead. Orihime felt the orange haired boy did not like her so much. But Keigo on the other hand seemed positively enthusiastic. They sat at the roof of the school in a circle with Orihime and Ichigo sitting opposite of each other. The wind was soft and the sky a clear shade of blue. Orihime loved how so in touch she felt with nature under the wide afternoon sky. Orihime opened her Bento to reveal a Red Bean Paste Sandwich. The gang stared at her lunch with unmasked curiosity, Orihime blissfully oblivious to their stares.

"Orihime I think your aunt mixed the red bean paste bottle with the jam bottle." Tatsuki told the teen.

Orihime stared wide eyed at Tatsuki and said, "Oh no, it's red bean paste all right. You should try some Arisawa Chan. It's really good."

Tatsuki gulped. "It's all right Orihime, I am fine, "she replied waving her own sandwich in the air for proof. "By the way, call me Tatsuki. No formalities okay"

Orihime's face split into a wide grin. She nodded enthusiastically. Ichigo watched her hair jump in the wind as she nodded her head.

"Orihime let me officially introduce you to the gang. This gentleman here with the cell phone, is Mizuiro. He is a pretty cool guy though I find it freaky that he is into older woman." Tatsuki said, pointing her hand at Mizuiro, a short brown haired man. Mizuiro waved at Orihime.

"Hello, Orihime Chan. Say, your aunt that walked in earlier, How old is he?" Orihime's eyes bulged. Mizuiro chuckled.

"Just kidding," Mizuiro added.

Orihime laughed. "I would advise you against asking her out Mizuiro Kun, for your own safety, because Rukia-Chan is pretty feisty." She replied giggling at the thought of Rukia.

"Ah a dominatrix! I like that in a girl!" he remarked.

"And so does her boy friend." Orihime added. Mizuiro choked on his juice.

"This," Tatsuki began pointing her finger at a brunette boy, "is Keigo". "He is the male less-overt version of Chizuru."

Keigo looked hurt.

"Ah Tatsuki Chan, that was so rude." He whined dramatically. Tatsuki waved her hand dismissing his accusation.

He beamed at Orihime. Orihime beamed right back. Encouraged, Keigo extended his hand to Orihime and shook it energetically. "Hello Hime-Chan," he greeted his mouth slightly drooling.

"Hello, Keigo Kun it's nice to meet you. And oh you are dripping from the mouth" she told Keigo seriously. Tatsuki muffled a laugh as Keigo, embarrassed, wiped the drool off his mouth.

Orihime's eyes moved to Chad, avoiding Ichigo's.

"This is Yasutora Sado. But we call him Chad." She said pointing at the tall Mexican with wavy brown hair clouding his eyes. The muscular figure did not greet her. He simply raised his hand and gave her a thumbs-up sign. Orihime mimicked his actions, greeting him with her own thumbs-up.

"This," Tatsuki began. Orihime's heart skipped a beat. She would have to not only meet his gaze but talk to him as well. Thought she could not understand why, it made her nervous. Clutching the cloth of her skirt tightly, she raised her head to meet Ichigo's burning gaze. He was staring at her without blinking. She began to sweat. Butterflies swarmed her stomach. Her whole body was heating up.

"This is Ichigo Kurosaki," Orihime blinked. Has she heard wrong? Did Tatsuki just say…? Orihime burst out laughing. Her laughter sounded chime like. Ichigo glared daggers. Noticing his anger, she muffled her laugher unsuccessfully.

"I am sorry Kurosaki Kun. But your name, it's so cute."

She bowed her head numerous times in apology. Ichigo wasn't mad. Under normal circumstances, he would have butchered the one who dared laugh at the name his old man had been dumb enough to give him. But the sight of a laughing Orihime surprised him. For some bizarre reason, he had wanted to laugh with her. But he had an image to protect. So he shunned laughter.

"My name is not cute, damn it."

He mumbled furiously. Orihime shook her head violently, her hair flying in all directions.

"But I think it is Kurosaki Kun."

Ichigo's cheeks grew a light shade of pink. Tatsuki watched Ichigo's reaction and smirked. Ichigo began gobbling down his food faster avoiding Orihime's eye.

The bell rang vehemently concluding their lunch hour. The gang stood up and headed back to class together. As they did, Orihime's hand slightly brushed against Ichigo's. They both looked into each other's eyes. Tatsuki could have sworn she saw sparks fly out. The couple broke the eye contact, blushed furiously and headed to their respective seats. Once again, they deliberately avoided looking at each other. Neither Orihime nor Ichigo had ever harbored anything as mundane as a crush. To suddenly be introduced to someone who made your heart beat fast and stop at the same time was overwhelming. Orihime began her ritual day dreaming gazing out the window. Ichigo watched her hair sway in the breeze. He watched the ever-present smile on her face and felt himself smile unconsciously. He watched her long lashes brush her cheeks. Her cheeks were painted a slight shade of pink. It reminded him of strawberries. He wondered if they tasted like strawberries too. He was caught in his own reverie when suddenly a chalk flew out of nowhere and hit him square on the head. Ichigo cursed under his breath and looked around for the perpetrator. Ochi-Sensei was standing with her hands on her hip, glowering at him.

"Would you please stop gawking at Miss Inoue and listen to the class please, Kurosaki."

The class burst out laughing. Ichigo looked mortified. He glanced at Orihime. She caught his eye. They flustered and looked away instantly.

Classes were finally over. Orihime was packing her bag as the rest of the students scurried out of the class room, eager to exit the school. Orihime stood at the entrance gate, looking left and right, waiting for someone or something. Tatsuki walked up to her.

"Hey Orihime, are you looking for someone?" she asked.

"I am waiting for Rukia Chan. You remember? My aunt, from earlier this morning," She said she would come pick me up but she is late."

Orihime explained. She could walk home without her aunt. Her house was close. But her father would freak out if he came to know. He was very protective about her especially in critical times such as these. Tatsuki pondered. She could willingly walk Orihime home but unfortunately she had Karate practice. But she didn't want to leave Orihime alone either. Orihime was quite so obviously an attractive girl and naive too. She would undoubtedly attract attention to herself principally from the lecherous kind. And that was too dangerous. She looked around for an answer and the answer presented itself in the form of an orange haired punk. Ichigo was on his way home when he heard Tatsuki call out his name.

"Ichigo, hey Ichigo"

Ichigo turned his head around to find Tatsuki standing beside a timid Orihime. His eyes narrowed. He approached them.

"What's up Tatsuki?"

Tatsuki explained it to him. "You see," she began. "Orihime here has to go home,"

"So do the rest of us."

Ichigo wisecracked his voice unintentionally hostile. Orihime began to fidget nervously. Tatsuki tapped her feet in impatience.

"Let me finish, Strawberry head"

Ichigo flinched at the nick-name. Orihime giggled.

"Her aunt forgot to pick her up. So why don't you take her home?" she concluded.

"Why do I have to do it?" he whined like an eight year old refusing to get out of bed.

"Because, I said so. Listen Ichigo she is new, she might get lost."

Tatsuki tried to reason with him. Ichigo scratched the back of his head, his fingers scraping his scalp. Orihime decided that since Ichigo wasn't too eager to take her home, she shouldn't bother him.

"It's alright Kurosaki Kun; I can find my own way back home."

But Ichigo stopped her.

"It's too dangerous for you to go out there alone. Let me walk you home."

Orihime began to flay her arms and protest. But Ichigo stopped her again.

"It's okay, I want to." He said without thinking, and then bit his tongue.

Tatsuki raised her eyebrows. Orihime did not want to burden her friends. But she knew she would be much safer with his company. Ichigo's presence might just discourage them from attacking her. They wouldn't risk exposure like that, she hoped. Tatsuki bid her good bye and left.

The couple began walking silently. The trees rustled in the breeze and sunlight poured in from the scattered clouds. The birds chirped and Orihime couldn't help but admire the beauty of a suburb like Karakura. Having been brought up in the city with traffic everywhere, side-walks crowed and the air polluted, she found the fresh atmosphere of the small town a refreshing change. Ichigo watched her every step. She was beautiful without doubt. She was bright like the sun, radiating beams that spread warmth into his very being. This feeling was so very foreign to him. Orihime broke the silence first.

"Thank you for walking me home Kurosaki Kun."

"It's okay. So why did you and your family move all the way from Tokyo to Karakura?"

He asked making small talk.

Orihime reflected on how to tackle the question. Truth be told, they had moved to Karakura for safety purposes. She and her family have gone into hiding to avoid confrontation with certain characters. She wondered how to lie without arousing suspicion.

"Well back home I got abducted by aliens, little green men. They wanted to drink my blood to see how I taste. Though I could have told them Red Bean Paste tastes much better than I do. Although I managed to escape, my dad got worried. So we decided to move here. You could say we are in hiding."

She elucidated. Orihime congratulated herself on having coming up with a pretty rational lie. She smiled smugly.

Ichigo gawked. He began to question the mental stability of the girl next to him. As Orihime walked by Ichigo's side, she suddenly slipped. Her body was about to hit the road. She closed her eyes expecting cold cement to greet her any moment, but instead a warm pair of hands wrapped themselves around her waist and pulled her closer to a solid chest. As she steadied herself her hands gripping the fabric of Ichigo's uniform, her breast brushed against Ichigo's chest, sending waves of electricity coursing through both their bodies. Her hair fell on his hands which continued to rest on her waist. Ichigo looked down at her and as she looked up at him, their eyes met. They blushed simultaneously. Heat like wild fire spread through their entire being.

"Would you look at that" a voice in the background crackled into laughter.

"Aww the little love birds." Another voice joined.

Ichigo let go of Orihime and looked around. Orihime froze in fear.

A man with a curtain of long black hair traipsed into sight holding what looked like a Podao. He was dressed in a black Sherwani with a dull grey scarf wrapped around his neck. His chiseled face looked handsome. Eerily handsome, Ichigo observed. The guy Ichigo noted was dressed too foreign and too grand to be a common street lecher. Besides him Orihime began to fidget. He pushed her behind him gently, protectively and assured her safety. But she continued to look frightened.

"Sorry to disturb your little rendezvous but we were wondering if we could borrow the little princess for a while," the man said in a silky tone.

His voice made Ichigo's skin erupt into goose bumps.

"No can do buddy, the girl stays with me," he yelled back, shielding Orihime from his view.

"Kurosaki Kun, maybe you should let me go. I don't want them to harm you" she said.

"Nonsense, Inoue. What kind of guy would I be if I ditched a girl at the first sign of trouble" he replied, eying the new comer cautiously.

"You are too kind Kurosaki Kun but I can protect myself. And I don't think you can. You are not strong enough for these guys."

To say that Ichigo felt insulted would be an understatement. He gaped at her statement and wondered if he should abandon her just to punish her for saying so. To his surprise, another guy in a matching outfit with short spiky hair marched out of the darkness. His eyes rested on Orihime. His face adorned a long scar stretching from his forehead to his lips, disfiguring his otherwise handsome features. The guy had a sickle held tightly in his right hand. Orihime became uneasy at the sight of the second man. She dropped her bag and stood erect as if preparing for battle. Ichigo put his hand inside his pocket and dug out a pocket knife. He knew it wasn't much but it felt better next to nothing.

"Remember this scar princess," the spiky hired man said to Orihime. "It's a souvenir from our last battle. I have always wanted to repay you for that."

Ichigo was shocked. "Orihime you know this guy?" He asked her, his sight still focused on the intruder.

"Ah, I see you have a new body guard." The long haired man remarked.

The spiky haired man disappeared and reappeared almost instantly besides Ichigo. Without a warning with the speed of a lightning, he slapped Ichigo forcefully, hurling him 10 feet into the air. Orihime screamed.

"A mere human?" he sneered and burst into pearls of mirthless cold laughter.

Ichigo hit his head on the concrete. His vision was blurry and head heavy. The pain throbbing in his head was overwhelmingly agonizing. He brought a hand to his forehead. Something sticky greeted his fingers. It was blood. Realization dawned on him. Those men were not human. No human could send another man launching into the air with a mere slap. He knew he had to save Orihime.

He stumbled to his feet. The other man, the one with the Podao, materialized behind him. He grabbed Ichigo's hair and yanked it. Ichigo screamed in pain. He could hear the distant echo of Orihime's scream. Something told him she was screaming for him. Despite the pain, he smiled. The man tugged his hair, forcing his head straight.

"Watch her die, human" the man whispered into his ears.

Ichigo watched. Orihime was standing a few feet away from him. Her face reflected horror and repulsion as the man with the short hair, standing behind her, put his coarse hands on her soft mounds. He groped them roughly. She shrieked. He brought his lips to her ears and whispered something inaudible into them. She whimpered. Her beautiful face broke into tears. His lips nibbled on her ears. His hot breath scorched her delicate skin. His mouth trailed down her neck and his burning tongue licked them, enjoying the desperate cries he derived out of her. How he loved to watch women suffer. His hands tore the soft fabric of her school uniform revealing a lacy bra. The cold air caressed her skin, making her nipples stand out like a sore thumb through the material of her bra. He moaned in desire.

"Let her go." Ichigo was in pain. But he didn't care. He wanted to ripe the head off the guy's neck. His entire body was shaking in fury.

The guy continued to molest Orihime as one hand slide up her skirt while the other hand stroked and squeezed her breasts occasionally pinching her tits. His scared face twisted into pleasure. He moaned out aloud while Orihime whimpered.

"Let her go." Ichigo yelled in rage. The man behind him laughed. He brought his Podao to his neck. For a moment the smooth surface of the bluish metal gleamed under the setting sun. The man sliced Ichigo's throat in a heartbeat. He raised his body and tossed it into the air. Orihime screamed once again. Ichigo hit the concrete a second time as blood oozed out of his gullet. Blood spilled abundantly making a puddle of crimson red. He was drifting into unconsciousness.

The two men laughed in unison.

"Take her blood and kill her fast" The long haired man ushered.

"Wait, I want to enjoy this. I want to see the fear in her eyes."

The short haired man replied as he pushed Orihime to the ground and began to straddle her. Positioning himself above her, he massaged her breast relishing the feel of soft skin under his calloused fingers. He began to move his hips in lust.

"Kurosaki Kun," Orihime screamed for help, her voice echoing through the streets.

"Kurosaki?"

The long haired man wondered. Maybe it was a mere coincidence. He shrugged and watched his ally take advantage of the poor girl. Chi, his partner was a pathetic lecher.

"_**Wake up, King**__" a coarse voice ordered. Ichigo did not reply. He lacked the strength to make even the slightest of moments. _

"_**Don't make me watch her die yet again**__." _

"_Do you think I want any of this? I want to save her, even if it means dying." Ichigo argued. But the voice sneered. _

"_**Then let me help you**__." The voice started to chuckle. Then the laughter became more pronounced as he roared out aloud. _

"Kurosaki Kun, Help me" Orihime sobbed in her desperation.

Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound. The two men startled turned back to find Ichigo, no someone like Ichigo standing in the middle of a cloud of smoke. His hair was white. His skin was marble like. He looked like an albino, even worse, much fairer. His eyes gleamed, a golden shade of yellow. His face broke into a grin.

"_**And so the seal breaks again**_" he said mostly to himself in a throaty voice.

"_**YEEHAW**_" he yelled as he sprang from the ground.

* * *

end of second chapter.

read and review if you feel motivated to...


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BLEACH.

A/N: I am not going to assure that the story will be great but I will try to write the best I can.. Any Ideas on how to improve the story are welcome..

**Chapter 3:**

**The Man in the Mirror: **

1.

Rukia drove fast. She stepped on the accelerator with alarming force. The car swirled at the u-turn. As Rukia slammed on the brakes it came to a screeching halt in front of Karakura High school. The students standing near the entrance gaped at the petit form of the short haired woman as she forced the door open and stormed out of the car, her eyes darting back and forth in search of someone. She was late. Damn it! She cursed under her breath and continued her search. Her niece Orihime Inoue was nowhere to be found within the premises. She began to worry and fidget. Just then she caught sight of a tall wavy haired Mexican guy whose curls covered his eyes. She remembered him as one of Orihime's new classmates. She had seen his face when she had barged into their class earlier that morning. She approached him hastily.

"Hey you!" she yelled. Chad turned around hoping to catch sight of the caller. He found no one.

"Down here." A voice commanded. He obeyed the voice and bent down to find an elfin form staring at his mammoth figure.

"Are you Orihime's classmate" she enquired just to be sure. The gentle giant did not reply. He simply nodded his head in the affirmative.

"Where is she?" she asked. The tall Mexican seemed to consider the question. Then slowly with the swiftness of a turtle he raised his hands and pointed at the road.

"She left with Kurosaki Ichigo a few minutes ago. Tatsuki said he was walking her home." he replied, hand still stretched in the direction of the narrow road.

"Damn it!" she cursed again. Then her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion and she replayed Chad's reply in her mind.

"What did you say the boy's name was?" she asked just to be certain she had heard right.

"Kurosaki Ichigo" the giant replied, his features impassive.

"Kurosaki?" she thought to herself. "Is it possible?" she wondered in disbelief bringing a finger to her chin in contemplation. "It wasn't," she told herself. She shook her head to rid herself of the thought and ran into her car. She slammed the door once inside and stepped on the accelerator again mercilessly. The car zoomed out of sight. Chad watched the car shrink in size and slowly vanish out of sight. He resumed his walk home.

2.

The albino was grinning in amusement.

"_**Surprised to see me**_?" he laughed in mock delight, his voice carrying far.

Orihime was lying on the ground temporarily abandoned by the demon that had previously assaulted her. Both the intruders were gaping at the albino with doubt. Was he a mere hallucination or a trick of the light? The long haired man craned his neck to search for Ichigo's body on the ground. He did not see the orange haired teen anywhere. He remembered the name Kurosaki. A shiver ran down his spine. It couldn't be. Could it? How was it possible? They had thought the clan had ceased to exist two thousand years ago, like the Yagami's. But now he wasn't so sure.

The spiky haired man approached the new comer with great caution, his sickle gripped firmly in his hands. He took long strides as he walked, always keeping the distance between the albino and himself constant. The long hired man knew it was time. He materialized before Orihime. The albino's eyes fixed on him. He hissed under his breath as a warning. Trying his best to ignore the hiss, the demon yanked Orihime's hair and placed a knife at her throat. The albino's eyes narrowed dangerously. With great agility and zero hesitation the demon slit a shallow wound on Orihime's neck and let the blood drip. The cut was not too deep because he needed her alive for the blood to work its magic. Orihime flinched and her body began to shudder in pain. The long haired man let the blood fall in drops into a transparent pear shaped glass container.

The white Ichigo lost his wits.

"_**Get your filthy hands off her.**_" He stormed to Orihime's side. But the spiky haired man stopped him by putting himself in front of Orihime and his partner. White Ichigo growled angrily.

"_**I see you have a death wish**_." The long haired man with Orihime's blood merely laughed,

"Finish him Fang. I will be waiting," he ordered before his solid form melted into a hazy nebulous black and rose into the sky like smoke. His laugh echoed in the sky like the distance sound of a war siren. Then, mysteriously he was gone.

White Ichigo was watching the black rise against a grey sky when a sharp metal grazed past his cheeks leaving behind a thin trail of red blood. His eyes fell on the short haired man before him. He was smirking. White Ichigo growled.

"My name is Bishamonten Fang from the Bishamonten clan. Introduce yourself beast." In his hand was clutched a martial arts weapon that resembled a sickle. The albino spread out his fist and stared at his bare palm. His hands were empty. He vaguely remembered wielding a weapon in a battle before. The memory felt centuries ago. The loss of the weapon made him feel limbless.

Fang grew impatient at the lack of response and hurled his weapon at white Ichigo again. The weapon swirled around white Ichigo, missing him by inches. White Ichigo laughed in mockery. He had hardly attempted to dodge it and yet it missed him by inches.

"_**You are a million years too early to fight me**_," he snickered in ill-amusement at his opponent. But the demon merely waited patiently, almost expectantly. White Ichigo's laughter was cut short when the weapon boomerang-like swirled into sight once again grazed past his arm, tearing his clothes, drawing blood. He snarled.

3.

Rukia was speeding past larger and smaller vehicles, indiscriminately. They horned at her, some yelled, while others chose to express themselves in colorful hand gestures. But she would not be deterred. She soon reached a narrow stretch of road, isolated from the rest of the traffic. She slowed down considerably. The road was bordered on both sides by trees. There was not a sole in sight. She squirted her eyes in search of the teens. Just when she thought that there was no sign of Orihime on the road, she caught sight of two full fledged demons fighting a full battle. One she recognized as Fang from the Bishamonten clan. Panic struck her. She feared for the safety of Orihime. The other demon she could not place. She looked closer. She took in his white hair and pale white skin. Unexpectedly, in the thrill of battle his eyes gleamed, a golden topaz. Rukia froze.

"Impossible" she muttered under her breath.

She opened the door and ran out of her car to get a closer look while still remaining undetected. On the other side, Orihime lay on the ground, her eyes transfixed on the albino. She seemed mesmerized by him. Rukia noticed blood drip from a cut in her neck. She began to dread. Have they taken her blood already? What will she do now?

4.

Fang jumped out of the way as an enraged white Ichigo lunged at him. Fang sneered. The albino was not weak. He was merely disoriented. He knew he was weaponless. He was crippled and the battle was not as easy as it otherwise would have been. The loss rendered him handicapped and clumsy in executing certain moves. The demon sensed his unease and sneered at him. This hurt the albino's pride, enraging him further. And anger clouded his proper sense of combat. Rukia watched dumbfounded.

The sickle twirled past him in frenzy, cutting him haphazardly. It flew back and forth, like a pendulum without a moments rest. White Ichigo noticed that the demon exercised some sort of telepathic control over his weapon. It obeyed his thoughts in the way it struck its opponent. Once again, fang swirled the weapon towards the albino. But this time, the albino dived forward and caught the sickle in a death grip, never letting it go. The weapon vibrated in his palms, sensing he was a stranger, seeking the warmth and the familiar hold of its master's grip. But white Ichigo refused to let it go. Fang panicked. He knew he was in danger now. He extended his arm, hoping the weapon would flow back into his clutches but it did not. Now he was weaponless. His eyes darted randomly, in search of an escape. He ran towards Orihime hoping to use her as a human shield. But predicting his movement, white Ichigo materialized before him, stopping him dead on his tracks. Now it was his time to sneer. He caught Fang's neck in a death grip.

"_**Let's see you laugh now**_," he mocked. Fang whimpered like a wounded puppy. White Ichigo raised the sickle high in the air and without the slightest hesitation or a trace of sympathy, brought it down on the neck of the demon. A blood chilling scream shot through the air, panicking Orihime and Rukia. Blood splattered everywhere. But the albino merely laughed. Fang was decapitated. The albino's flawless white complexion was blotted with traces of blood and gore. The red spots stood out distinctly against his porcelain skin.

He smirked diabolically at his victory. His demonic crackle reverberated through the night scaring the crows out of their nest. Fang's body disintegrated in his arms. The wind carried the ashes high into the dark sky.

5.

Orihime watched the albino walk towards her in a mingled sensation of fear and awe. She was still on the ground and too scared to move. The albino cast the weapon aside and settled on the ground next to her, inspecting his battle wounds and ignoring her. Orihime began to hyperventilate. Her breathing grew heavy in fear, her chest rising up and down in rhythmic motion. The sound aroused his interest. He turned to watch her eyes fix on his. Fear flickered in her pupils.

"Ku-Ku-Ku-Ku," she stammered, unable to finish. He watched her, first amused, then annoyed.

"_**Spill it out**_," he demanded. She swallowed the rest and began to tremble and sweat. His gaze fell on her dry lips. She licked them wet. She began to panic when his focus was shifted to observing her. Was he going to murder her also? And where was Kurosaki Kun? Was it really him? Did he or could he at all identify her? She wondered in fear. He seemed to notice the blood on her neck. His eyes narrowed into a fine line. He leaned forward, his neck bent. Orihime froze. His mouth reached for her neck and carefully, softly he licked her wound. His tongue was hot, like it was fresh out of an oven. The heat melted her. She closed her eyes and let the heat sizzle her into submission. He moved, placing both his arms on either side of her. Though their bodies were not touching, Orihime could feel the warmth emanating from his body. His mouth cupped her neck, swallowing most of the skin, while his tongue continued to lick and brush against her wound. Unable to hold back, Orihime moaned in ecstasy. She placed a hand on his shoulder and clutched him tight. Without a warning, the albino collapsed on top of Orihime. She shrieked and flailed her arms helplessly. But the albino was stock-still. She watched the color of his hair grow from a pale white to the brightest shade of Orange, the color of the sun. His skin seemed to tan in a matter of seconds. And before she knew it, he was Kurosaki Ichigo again. She breathed a sigh of relief. She tried to push him off, without success. She heard footsteps. Rukia was standing in front of her, hands on her hip.

"Rukia Chan," Orihime cried in delight. But Rukia was not so eager. Her features were solemn.

6.

_The figure of Genji lay on the ground, unmoving. Hikaru approached him. She gazed at the form of her dear lover, marveling at his sharp features. His orange hair never ceased to fascinate her, or put a smile on her face. His scowl made him, child-like in her eyes. She brought a hand to her heart. She wondered how it was possible to love someone so much; with every fiber of her being that it hurt somewhere inside of her chest, as if unable to contain such a strong emotion. She bent down, placing both her hands on either side of his face. Her body hovered above his, without making the slightest of contacts. When he did not move, she assumed he was sleeping. She let her knuckles graze against his cheeks. The warmth of his skin comforted her. Bowing down, she carefully kissed him on his forehead. The kiss was soft like the gentle brush of feather. She kissed his nose. Her breath fanned his skin. She moved further down and kissed his lips, giggling into his mouth. Her soft hair, silk-like hair, swept the sides of his face, tickling him. She touched her cheek to his and nuzzled her face into the curve of his collar. Her eye lashes stroked the side of his neck, like soft butterfly wings brushing against smooth skin. Genji's scowl broke into a smile. _

"_Is that all?" he whispered into her ears. She shirked and then giggled. _

"_I thought you were asleep." She raised her head and was above to remove herself from him when Genji caught her and pulled her into his chest. She fell on top of him, her hands holding on to his for support. He cupped her face with both his hands and clashed his lips against hers. Their mouths moved together deepening the kiss. Her mouth was both warm and wet and she tasted sweet. His tongue plunged deeper, taking everything she had to offer and giving everything he had in return. They broke apart, each gasping for air. _

"_Hikaru," he whispered. She blushed. At the sound of her name, from his lips, her face broke into a shy smile and her pearl-like skin glowed brighter than the sun. How he loved her!_

Ichigo woke up, his head throbbing in sync with his heartbeat. The pain was so excruciatingly agonizing he wanted to bang his head against the wall to numb the pain. But he knew it was a bad idea, in practice. He looked around and his frown deepened when he realized he was not home. He vaguely recalled the events from last night. It felt like a bad horror movie.

Ichigo scratched his scalp in confusion. He remembered being struck down by man infinite times more powerful than him. He had watched on helplessly as another assaulted Orihime. Last he could summon to memory was a man with yellow-gold eyes beheading Fang. He had observed the slaughter like a spectator, from somewhere inside his mind. He had watched his hands hold the weapon and execute the finishing blow, but he had gazed on as a mere puppet, with no control over his limbs, as the albino puppeteer dictated the moves. Was it all a dream, a nightmare? And yet it had all felt so real. And where was he now?

"Orihime" he spoke in an undertone, mostly to himself. But a rough voice answered.

"_**She's fine king, no thanks to you**_," Ichigo whipped his head to the side, trying to trace the source of the noise. He found no one. He brought a hand to his temple and rubbed it gently, trying to ease the pain. But it would not subside. He glared at his hands and shoulders and was surprised to find no gashes.

"What the hell," he muttered under his breath.

"_**They healed**_," the voice offered. Ichigo looked around once again. As expected, he found no one. Ichigo shook his head. Was he suffering from auditory hallucination? He wondered.

Ichigo noticed that he was in a room that was not his own. He had been sleeping on a canopy bed with a multitude of colorful pillows and cushions such as gold, red, maroon and brown. The bed did not have four posts on each corner. And it was not square but rather round. It was draped on all sides with fabric that stretched towards the top and met exactly at the same spot on the ceiling. It was like a tent. He removed the fabric that clouded his vision of the rest of the room. The room, he discovered, was huge but it was painted a dark brown which made it seem cozy and smaller than it really was. The walls were decorated with paintings of people he has never seen or encountered. As he looked around his eyes fell on a full-length free-standing floor mirror at the very centre of the room. The wooden panel was embellished with intricate designs. The mirror was placed behind a fainting couch made of mahogany and maroon cushions. It was arranged so that one could sit or lie on it on it while staring into their reflection on the mirror. But what attracted Ichigo was not the elegant finish of the mirror or the beauty of its design. What drew him to it was the person in the mirror, his supposed reflection.

Ichigo must have looked at his reflection a million times in the past sixteen years of this life. For the most part he hated it. His loud orange hair would scream at him and he would be forced to look away. If asked what he thought of his reflection he would have said "Mirror cracking material". But today try as he may, he could not look away. He could only stare in disbelief and incredulity.

He missed his own orange hair as he stared at the white hair of the man in the mirror. He double checked his hands and confirmed it as tan as he looked at the pale white-as-tusk skin of his reflection. Was it his reflection? How could it be?

"_**What are you looking at punk**_," the voice remarked as Ichigo continued to eye the stranger in the mirror. As they assessed each other the albino's eyes began to gleam a golden topaz and Ichigo recalled his own eyes as being chocolate brown.

"_**Hasn't anyone told you it's rude to stare**_?"

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To be continued……….


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys,

I am sorry I couldn't update sooner. I did this chapter in a hurry, so I guessing it's not very good. I have this hazy idea in my head. I think I finally know where am gonna be taking this story. And hopefully y'all will enjoy it.

Have fun. And thank you for all the reviews...!

**The resurrection**

The night was black, like a curtain of shadow draped across the moon-less sky. The stars quivered in their struggle to stay alight as darkness threatened to consume them. There was something sinister in the air, like the stench of evil brewing in a distance. The shadows seemed to whisper, the trees seemed to tremble in fear and the night seemed to come alive, like an ancient evil spirit. The wind howled in warning. Something unnatural was approaching.

A tall lanky man with long black hair stumbled his way across the hill, desperate to get to the cave. Clutched firmly between his long, slender fingers, was a pear shaped glass container, filled with a red liquid that strangely resembled blood and yet it was so unlike it. As it splattered against the glass walls of the container the fluid inside seemed to glow like liquid ruby. He held on to it like his life was trapped inside of it and letting it go would mean instant death. The man hurried. It was long past mid-night and he was late. The old man would not be pleased.

He made his way along bushes and wild shrubs till he came to stand in front of the opening of a cave. The entrance was wide, like the mouth of a huge animal, a carnivore, opening wide to swallow a hapless prey, not very welcoming. Hesitantly he went in, his grip around the container tightening. Inside there was a faint dim glow, emanating from a dying candle.

"Kiba, you are back," a deep guttural voice stated. The voice resounded within the cave. The man named Kiba walked in, silent.

An old man sat at the very middle of the cave, his legs crossed and hands folded like a yogi. His beard was long and gray and his head was bald. He sat rooted to his spot, like an ancient rock, unmoving.

Besides him, lay a huge sepulcher, the size of a coffin, made of white stone. From the looks of it, it must have been a thousand years old.

The tomb was covered in strange curious carving. The carvings were those of people with their hands cupping their face which was contorted in fear. Their eyes were huge and bulging, terror-struck. Their cheeks were hollow and gaunt; their mouth was open wide, screaming in agony. What was stranger still? They seemed so life-like. As if they would pop out of the tomb any moment now, only something was holding them back. They were trapped, souls damned in hell.

"Fang is not with you." the old man commented. It wasn't a question, but an observation.

The man named Kiba did not reply straight away. He began hesitantly.

"He was killed."

The old man was stoic. His face did not reveal an ounce of emotion. He, like the faces sculptured on the tomb, remained inanimate.

"And by who?" he managed to ask, his voice apathetic.

Kiba was not sure how to phrase it. He wasn't sure if he had seen right. How could it be? It has been thousands of years now. Surely he had seen wrong. But what if his fears proved right? What then? A threat of such magnitude must not be hidden from the old man. He remained thoughtful for a while.

Not meeting the gaze of the old man, he began uncertainly.

"We were attacked by a demon."

The one man waited. He knew the younger man had something important he was hesitant to say. It was etched all over his face. He almost belched. It was disgusting to have emotion splattered all over one's countenance like that. Surely it was a sign of weakness, lack of control. And there was nothing he hated more than deficiency of control. It made one seem more human, more pathetic.

"What is bothering you, Kiba"

The man asked, indifferently. But Kiba noticed the slight, impossible to tell, raise in his voice. He was getting impatient. Anyone else might have missed it, but not him. He had lived too long with the old man.

"Fang was killed by a Kurosaki"

The old man's eyes jerked to corner of their sockets. His stare fixed at the back of the younger man.

"Impossible"

His voice was dangerously low, like an inaudible growl. His eyes stared dead ahead. They narrowed into a fine line, gleaming with malice.

"They were wiped out, long ago." He stated, through clenched teeth. His palm balled into a fist.

Kiba was beyond surprised. The old man was radiating hatred like the beams of light emanating from the sun. The malevolence was so thick, so tangible that it was almost visible like an aura of darkness, enveloped around him. He slowly continued.

"Not just any Kurosaki, but a resurrection."

He slowly stood up, his tall, muscular form filling the cave, like a huge shadow rising from the depths of darkness. The old man stayed muted at the news. But Kiba knew that inside the old man's blood was boiling like hot magma.

"So it begins once again." he whispered through clenched teeth.

The old man did not believe in fate. But this could not have been a mere coincidence. Collecting himself again, he asked.

"You succeeded?"

He asked as his eyes travelled to the container clutched between Kiba's hands.

"yes,"

Kiba stretched his hand, offering the container to the older man. If he was pleased, he did not show it. He was like a rock, formidable, unstoppable and indifferent. Sometimes Kiba doubted if he was demon at all.

The old man inspected the blood. The liquid inside, somehow, seemed alive. It seemed to sense the presence of the men around as it whooshed around with life. He was convinced.

"Open it Kiba" he instructed, jerking his head towards the tomb.

Kiba pushed his long hair behind his ears, pulled the sleeve of his sherwani above his elbows and scrunched his face in concentration as he tried to push open the lid of the sepulcher. It was heavy and stubborn and would not budge easily.

The wind ominously began to howl again. As he pushed with all his might, the closure dislodged and fell to the floor of the cave with an enormous thud. The wind began to swirl in frenzy and the night fell eerily silent. At a distance, a lone wolf howled.

The stench of death filled the cave like a mist. Kiba winced as if cut and retreated into a corner, hands covering his nose. But the old man was smiling. His eyes glowed with wickedness. He approached the sepulchral and gazed inside almost longingly.

Inside the tomb was a mummy. The sight was disturbing. The body was bony and emaciated. The skin was brown like solidified dust, like a mud carving. The head was decapitated from the body. The sight of the face was beyond horrifying. The mummy's countenance was that of pure agony. The eye sockets were hollow and the mouth was open wide, in a scream. She had died, very painfully. The face was piteous. Not only was the body well preserved so was the torture painted across the face, like the pain had remained conserved within her corpse, still torturing her in after life.

The old man, his eyes shining with pure, unadulterated malice, approached the tomb. He put his hands together in prayer and began chanting. There were whispers in the wind, like spirits being awakened. The wind blew full force. The wolves began to howl again as the trees rattled in the wind, jerking in motion as if trying to uproot themselves to escape the evil that was approaching.

Kiba watched in silence. The old man had his eyes closed. His chanting grew louder and louder, till suddenly his eye lids flew open. They were filled with a vile ecstasy. He held the pear shaped container over the mummy and gripped it tight. The glass began to crack till it shattered within his palm. Blood dripped from his hands into the mummy's mouth.

The blood fell on the open jaws of the mummy, welcoming the blood.

The old man gazed on expectantly.

Nothing happened.

Kiba watched the blood dribble from the mummy's mouth, trickling down her jowl. She remained inanimate as always.

But suddenly a faint creaking noise filled the cave accompanied by a sizzling sound like oil in a frying pan. Kiba looked around baffled. Perplexed, he turned his attention back to the mummy to find her mouth moving licking the blood dripping down her lips. But something was wrong.

The blood was corroding. It was like acid, burning its way through the dry flesh of the mummy, dissolving it.

The old man's face broke into a wide neurotic smile. The insane look of joy scared Kiba.

The mummy made its way out of the tomb, like a zombie crawling out of the grave. She stood, with her knees and hips bent and hand sticking out in odd directions. The mummy made gagging noises like it was trying to breathe. It broke into sporadic tremors like an epileptic. As the blood travelled down her body, the sordid skin began to dissolve. The blood continued to corrode her skin. She was melting away, like tiny, invisible insects eating their way through her ancient flesh.

But upon closer inspection, Kiba realized he was wrong. The mummy, like a snake was shedding. The outer skin was breaking up to reveal fair flesh underneath. The molting continued till all that was left took his breath away.

In the place of the mummy, stood a tall and slender person in her mid twenties. She was beautiful beyond a man's wildest imagination. Her skin was like snow, soft and glistening. Her long lustrous hair was swishing behind her like a curtain. Her red as wine lips were fuller than the juicy flesh of a fruit. Her eyes were a bottomless pool of black. And yet Kiba was more scared than enamored by her beauty. She was a snake, soft slender and mystifying. But he could sense that if she so desired, in a whim, without consideration, she could strike him down like a cobra. She was a force to be reckoned with.

Kiba stared. The old man made a wheezing sound like a controlled laugh.

_Ayame Yagami_ was now fully resurrected.

She stood in the middle of the cave, in all her former glory. Her body was full of curves, with her curtain of long shiny hair swishing behind her like a cape. Her eyes deep dark and unfathomable glowed like candles in the dark. Her lips were red and swollen. No woman human or demon could compare to her beauty. She was like the moon that glowed in a sea of black.

For the first time in two thousand years, she could see, hear and perceive. She wasn't just a conscious any more. She was a being. Though the cave was dim, lit only by the light of a lone candle, she was blinded by the sudden display of colors. She had dwelled in the darkness for so long, the concept of color seemed foreign. The voices of the men around seemed to echo inside her head, disorienting her. She felt vertigo from merely standing. And the wind and the chill tickled her skin, filling her with sensations she had long forgotten.

The two men bent down in reverence at the sight of her.

"Ayame Sama welcome back."

The old man said, his voice filled with respect. The demented look of excitement was once again replaced with his stoic expression. Ayame looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers. She touched her cheeks and felt her skin. She moved her hands to her neck and caressed them, as if incredulous that they were once again attached to her head.

"I am alive" she whispered inaudibly.

She extended her arms without a word. The old man grabbed a cloak and draped it around her naked body. She pulled the material close.

She looked dazed, like she had woken from a deep slumber. Everything around her appeared so unreal, like a vivid dream. As she moved, she stumbled on her legs. She was still getting used to the idea of moving around in her body. It had been so long since she actually had one. The feel of muscle contracting under her skin, the feel of solid ground underneath her feet, the sensation of the wind brushing against her skin, the luxury of a body willing to obey her every whim. Oh how glad she was to be back. She felt drugged; every sight around her seemed like a psychedelic vision.

She swirled around, her hands stretched wide, almost falling down. But the old man caught her. Her face broke into a smile. She bit her swollen lips in profound joy. Her eyes seemed to glow like a beacon of light.

"I am alive, I am live,"

She whispered repeated like a mantra.

And suddenly she erupted into fits of laughter, like a mad woman. The sound of her own laughter filled her ears, making her head hurt from the sudden explosion of sound. But she didn't stop.

The sound filled the cave, resounding, sending shivers down the demon named Kiba.

"I am alive," she screamed.

"After thousands of years of rotting in the dark, I am alive again."

Outside, the night was dying and dawn was approaching. The darkness gave way to light. The sun began to peek from behind the mountains.

Curious to see the world, Ayame stepped outside the cave. She smiled at the vast stretch of land spread beneath her. She would rule over everything once again. Her reign will continue. She smirked cockily when suddenly a beam of light fell on her naked shoulder. She watched curiously as warmth touched her.

But without warning her skin began to scorch and blacken.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Ayame screamed as pain shot though the entire length of her body, like being struck down by lighting. Her insides were on fire. She was boiling in liquid heat.

She ran to take cover inside the cave and cowered in a corner, safe within the darkness again.

"Yan Lou!"

She sent a spine chilling scream. Her voice was shaken and scared. It sounded hysterical.

The old man went to her side.

"What is the meaning of this? I cannot approach the light."

She demanded. Even in fear, her voice was commanding.

"It seems your resurrection is not complete your majesty."

Ayame's face was painted with hysteria. She bit her nails maniacally. Her bulging, terror-struck eyes darted back and forth, scanning the floor of the cave, while her mind worked fanatically trying to comprehend what had happened. She had spent the last two thousand years cowering in the dark. She was dying to see the light of day. What was stopping her? And suddenly her eyes fixed their stare on a single spot on the ground. Her mind stopped probing.

"My scythe,"

She whispered.

"Yan Lou, where is Emma-o,"

The old man's face turned grave.

"Lost your majesty,"

Ayame ripped herself from the ground with alarming force and stood erect. She stared hard into the face of the old man, her gaze burning into him.

"What do you mean lost?"

Her voice was hollow. It was sharp and caustic like the edge of a sword. There was no trace of emotion behind it. Kiba shook in his boots.

"With Genji's death, it disappeared."

Her face turned pale.

"Genji is dead?" she asked, her voice low and thoughtful.

She seemed saddened by the news.

So it was true, Kiba thought. She loved Kurosaki Genji. For a moment he felt pity for her. But Kiba would soon regret it.

"I missed my chance to kill him myself?" she yelled. Her voice thundered. It resounded within the walls of the cave, magnifying its effect.

Her anger seemed to increase ten folds. Her body trembled in suppressed fury.

"Where is Emma-O, Yan Lou? My resurrection will never be complete without her."

Kiba was frightened of her. She was beautiful and yet it was a wild beauty with a dangerous edge to it. If she were a flower she would undoubtedly be a sundew with an allure that entices only to trap and to devour, a predator among flowers.

Without warning the old man Yan Lau turned to face Kiba.

"There is a way to find the Scythe." He stated bluntly, his stare fixed at Kiba. Kiba trembled in fear.

Ayame found Yan Lau staring at Kiba. She followed his example and fixed her gaze upon his countenance, noticing him for the first time. She regarded him like a predator would regard a prey. He stared back at her, transfixed. Though he wanted to look away, he couldn't. He was hypnotized by her stare. Terrified, he wondered why they were looking at him. And then, like the falling together of a puzzle, it hit him, realization dawned.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," he murmured.

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_**To be continued.**_

The next chapter will explain everything, like why Yagami cannot expose herself to light, about Orihime's blood and also about Ichigo's situation.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you didn't think you wasted your time. Please Review. ^_^

Any ideas on how to develop the plot or how to improve the story are gladly welcome...


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